


how to find the will to carry on

by BisexualRoger (HyperPluviophile)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existentialism, Fear of Death, Gen, Major Illness, Nuclear Warfare, Poor Brian May, Roger is going through some shit, actually they all are, it's the 70's/80's of course there's the fear of nuclear war, this isn't a fun one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-16 18:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperPluviophile/pseuds/BisexualRoger
Summary: It's 1974. While Brian fights off the infection threatening to claim not only his career but also his life, Freddie and Roger have a conversation about mortality, the meaningless of life, the threat of nuclear war, and (most importantly) why John Deacon should be allowed to get some damn sleep.(If you're susceptible to existential anxiety/angst maybe give this a miss)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Don't worry, I'm saving the big long authors note for after the fic this time 💖)

The hospital isn’t quiet when Freddie wakes up. No matter how late it seems to get there’s always something going on in the corridor outside- Nurses bustling in pairs, doctors barking instructions, porters, patients, relatives etc. Even though how ill Brian currently is can hardly be considered a blessing, Freddie supposes that the silver lining to it is that at the very least it means they’ve been given a private room. God knows how much harder this would be if they were having to sit with him on a ward. Scratch that, if he was on a ward they likely wouldn’t be allowed to sit with him at all. Besides, Fred knows how the NHS works. Gangrene and hepatitis on their own are bad enough, and the last thing Brian needs is to be catching one of the numerous infectious diseases that are always doing the rounds at places like this. 

Freddie sits up a little and cracks his neck, irritated at the stiffness that has settled in his bones thanks to the uncomfortable position he’s been forced to sleep in. He supposes he should just be grateful that unlike Roger and John he’d had the sense to bring a heavy coat that he can use to cushion the plastic hospital chair, so at the very least he must be more comfortable than them. But even so his muscles are still aching from the strain of it. 

Standing as quietly as he can he takes this moment to observe his silent roommates. 

First there’s patient zero himself, lying unresponsive with his hair framing his face like some kind of dark halo. The guitarists face is ashen, alarmingly corpse like even, but at the very least he isn’t yellow anymore. Although on top of the sky blue hospital blankets his infected arm lies swollen and unignorable, a permanent grotesque reminder of how unwell he really is. The doctors have assured them that they’re starting to get the gangrene under control, but they're all acutely aware that amputation is still a very real possibility that they ought to prepare for just in case. Freddie tries not to think about this, and instead takes solace in how peaceful Brian looks. It’s a nice change from the almost overwhelming pain he’s been in for days now. 

Next Freddie shifts his attention to John. The bassist has made a bed for himself by dragging three chairs together and lying across them, using his jacket as a makeshift pillow. At a distance he looks perfectly asleep- with no sign that he’s bothered by either the outside noise or the fact that his now waist length hair is falling over his face and brushing the questionably clean floor- but Freddie knows him well enough to be able to see through the facade. John isn’t sleeping, but he’s lying down with his eyes closed because there’s nothing else to do right now. 

Finally there’s Roger. Commonly known among the members of the band as the man who can sleep anywhere, no matter how loud or uncomfortable or inappropriate. If any of them should be able to find some relief from the stress of being awake it’s Roger, so it comes as a surprise to Freddie when he realises the blonde is still awake, and unlike John appears to be making no effort to even try and get some rest. 

He’s sat bolt upright in his chair, fiddling with the zip on his jacket while staring at nothing in particular with a strange glassy look in his eyes. As Freddie comes closer to him he shows no signs of being aware of his presence, apparently too caught up in his own thoughts to notice his friend beside him. 

“You’re still awake?” Whispers Freddie, despite the fact that he knows Brian won’t hear him and John isn’t asleep so neither will be disturbed by his words. 

Roger bites his lip, glancing briefly at him before dropping his gaze “Yep” His voice is monotone.

Freddie nods sympathetically, for the time being working under the assumption that Roger being awake is the result of discomfort “These chairs are absolute murder. Here, take my coat. I’ve slept enough already”

“I’m fine” Lies Roger

“You haven’t slept in three days. If you’re not careful you’ll end up like him” Freddie indicates towards the bed. Moving on from discomfort his next guess is that the drummer is staying awake out of a sense of obligation to Brian. So he then softly adds “He can’t hear you Roger, he doesn’t care if we’re here or not. He’s not going to be offended if you get some rest” 

Again Roger tugs nervously on his jacket zip “...It feels better to be awake worrying about him than it does to try and do something else. At least then I feel like I’m being useful” He says quietly, confirming that at least part of this does have something to do with a feeling of duty to his friend. 

Freddie raises an eyebrow. It’s too late (or perhaps too early since it could very well be past midnight) to be dealing with self sacrificial sentiments “You’ll be no use to him if you’re an absolute fucking mess when he wakes up” Then he moves closer to the blonde. Upon doing this he gets a better look at his expression, which is enough to make him exclaim “Christ Roger you look as if you’ve seen a ghost. Did Brian’s body leave his soul while I was sleeping? He hasn’t gone yet, he can’t be haunting you already” 

His worry only increases when Roger doesn’t laugh. 

“Come on, what’s troubling you?” Asks Freddie, more gently this time. He’s preparing to espouse everything the doctor had told them several hours earlier, because even if he himself is doubting whether or not Brian will be alright, he’ll be damned if he won’t go to the ends of the earth to reassure Roger. 

“I don’t know. Fred…” Roger sighs, running a hand across his face tiredly “It’ll sound stupid”

“We’re in a hospital room in England waiting to learn if Brian is going to lose his arm when we ought to be conquering America. I can deal with a small dose of stupidity”

Roger sighs again. He looks tired, in more than merely the physical sense “I just… I feel like this is futile. I mean- he’ll get better and then we’ll move on and then one day it’ll happen again, and that time we won’t be able to save him. And then it’ll happen to you and to Deaky and then to me, and it won’t matter that he survived this time, or that I stayed up worrying about him, or that we were successful or we weren’t because it’ll all be gone. And it’ll be like we were never here. In this hospital or at university or in Queen or anything” His voice breaks a little towards the end, betraying a deeper sense of hurt than he’s been letting on. 

“Roger dear I think you’ve had too much coffee and not enough rest” Says Freddie after a moment. He doesn’t understand what the drummer is trying to articulate, but he’s more than familiar with the effects of sleep deprivation and caffeine “Thinking like this won’t be any more help than staying up late will”

”No. But if everything is meaningless then me getting rest won’t help either” It's an odd remark. Uncharacteristic for a man who once described himself on stage as a "lower element" A combination of stress and sleep deprivation and the trauma of their journey back to England with a frighteningly ill Brian must have triggered some sort of repressed inner philosopher. 

Regardless of the cause the singer knows he's a little out of his depth here. So he opts for the humorous route “God you’re morbid tonight. You’re never usually this existential, Deaky help me out here” 

From his makeshift bed John opens one eye and mumbles a sleepy “Shut up Roger”

“Thank you” As usual Freddie can’t help but admire his blunt and simple approach. He rubs Roger’s shoulder affectionately “Come on, no more of this life is meaningless bullshit. Let’s talk about something else”

“Like what?” Roger’s tone of voice suggests that even if they move the conversation on his thoughts will stay the same. Meaning that instead of trying to wholly distract him Freddie needs to address the issue in a slightly more roundabout way. 

“Has Brian ever told you about the quantum physics of energy?” He asks eventually, finally stumbling upon something that he thinks might be helpful. Good old Brian; useful for dealing with Roger even when unconscious. 

Roger shrugs “I can’t say he has. I love him but I usually tune out when he starts talking about science. Don’t tell him I said that”

Freddie laughs and then continues “It’s just a silly theory. He mentioned it once when we were in Pittsburgh. It’s a depressing state so we were having a slightly depressing conversation. But he was talking about this idea that energy can’t be created or destroyed. I didn’t really understand it, but I think it means that… no matter where we go we’re never truly gone. We’re always out there somewhere, even if we don’t physically exist anymore. So perhaps our lives don’t have meaning, but it doesn’t mean they stop mattering after we go. Does that make you feel better?”

“Like you said. It’s just a silly theory” Roger shrugs “Existing as a ball of unconscious energy sounds shit. And what would be the point of it? You’ve seen the news, they reckon we’ll all be taken out by the atom bomb before the end of the century. They’re calling it the inevitable extinction. I never thought I’d live to see the end of the human fucking race but here we are” He brings two fingers to his mouth, a nervous tic that means he’s subconsciously thinking about going for a cigarette “I wouldn’t want to exist through that, as a ball or fucking energy or otherwise”

“I don’t really know what to say to that. I’m not a politician or a scientist or a philosopher and neither are you. But there’s no guarantee it’ll happen”

“Seems pretty likely. Most of the experts seem convinced”

“Well maybe it is likely. But even if it does happen we’ve already had a fairly good run together. Some people barely get a day of happiness in their entire lives, and we’ve spent the last five years doing everything we’ve ever wanted to do. In the grand scheme of the universe we’ve lived better than 99% of all the humans who’ve ever lived”

“It’d still feel fucking unfair” 

“Life isn’t fair dear” Replies Freddie, before he stops himself when he realises that in the context of this hospital room and Brian’s poor health what he’s saying has some uncomfortable implications about accepting death a little too readily “We’re getting off topic. The point is it’s not for us to worry about these sorts of things, if they’re going to happen then they’ll happen. Participation will be mandatory, but thinking about them in the present is optional” 

“I know. It’s just everything feels so fucking hopeless right now Fred. And, what if I’m thinking right and you’re wrong. What if this is the only proper way. What if how I'm feeling about life and how shit scary it really is is the correct way to feel?”

“Roger I’m the smartest person you know. Maybe not when it comes to things like astrophysics and dentistry I’ll grant you, but when it comes to life and moral wisdom I’m unparalleled. I’m practically a modern Byron. If you can’t trust my beliefs on it that’s fair enough, but you know just as little- possibly less- than I do when it comes to the meaning of life or the deeper plan of the universe”

“If there even is one” Mutters Roger, which is the final straw for Freddie. They’re just going in circles now. Roger may be too deep into despair to realise this but whether or not humanity has a wider purpose will not be solved by two sleep deprived rock stars in a shitty NHS hospital room. Not tonight anyway. 

“Oh fuck off. That’s enough of this existentialism for one night. You know, I think you’re just using all this abstract thinking as a way of distracting yourself from the thing you’re worried about in the here and now. And speaking of Brian, he’ll be seriously upset if after he’s recovered from being sick in the body he discovers that you’ve made yourself sick in the mind. Plus we’re keeping poor John awake, and I don’t think he’s had a peaceful night since we left America” The two of them look over at their exhausted bassist “If you can’t put away your existential fears for the sake of your own peace of mind can’t you do it for John?” Pleads Freddie “Look at his poor face, he needs his beauty sleep and we’re depriving him of it” 

“He’s right. You are” Says John from the other side of the room. 

Nodding, Freddie turns his attention back to Roger and says with as much sincerity as he can- “The way I see it darling, whatever happens we have to leave it to chance. And we have to find whatever it is that gives us the will to carry on because there isn’t an alternative. Maybe this all matters, and maybe it doesn’t. Maybe nuclear war will wipe us all out and maybe it won’t. It’s out of your hands. Just like poor Brian’s health is beyond both his and our control. All you can do is look after yourself the best you can” He pats Roger gently on the shoulder “Now take my coat and get some sleep. I’ll wake you up if sleeping beauty over there shows any signs of stirring” 

After a moment the blonde nods slowly. He’s still clearly unsettled but Freddie knows he’s achieved a small victory when Roger eases himself out of the chair with a small “Thank you” before making his way to Freddie’s former spot across the room. 

“No problem” Replies Freddie. He’s relieved he’s finally managed to have a breakthrough, and it occurs to him as he watches the other man make himself comfortable that just as Roger has focused on the larger problems in order to forget the imminent dangers, he himself has done the opposite in focusing on Roger’s anxiety instead of his own feelings. 

Hm. He realises that this hospital room is a microcosm of how people deal with the problem of being alive. Some get caught up in the absurdity of existence to the point where it blinds them to what’s right in front of them, others use their compassion as a way to forget the constant threat of mortality, meanwhile there are those like John who try (to varying degrees of success) to not think of it at all, and then there’s the Brian’s who are too wrapped in suffering to even give the wider meaning of life a second thought. Roger’s right in a sense- Despite the differences in their approaches one way or another they’ll all end up reaching the end, whether it be to nuclear war or disease or old age, but out of these approaches he knows which one he’d rather take in the interim. 

And now Freddie’s the one getting existential. He shakes himself out of it and tries to go back to the present. Pushing the mysteries of life aside he does another rain check on his bandmates- Brian doesn’t look better, but he doesn’t look worse, which given how rapidly he’d been deteriorating earlier is almost certainly a win. Meanwhile both John and Roger appear to have finally found some peace, with each man now fully relaxed and all the previous outward signs of tension gone from their faces. 

It’s as though life in its confusing breakneck uncertainty has stopped just for a moment, giving all four members a temporary respite, with only the noises of the doctors and nurses from outside the room serving as evidence that outside this serene bubble the world has gone on turning. And as he too starts to feel drowsy, Freddie can’t help but wonder if maybe there is meaning and order in the universe after all. Perhaps this, this unity with those you love in times of crisis, is what really matters, even if it doesn’t have any greater celestial meaning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so um... I wasn’t planning to give this a second chapter but it turns out that people seemed to quite like the first one, and from there the plot sort of just wrote itself 😂 I’m now planning for this to have 3 parts, so hopefullyyy chapter 3 will be out soon after this one, but I have exams in less than a month so we’ll just see what happens I suppose 💕

The view from the hospital window is a wholly monochrome one. Not that Freddie isn’t used to English weather (he might even consider himself somewhat attached to it) but there’s something particularly dreary about the cloudy, rainless sky that sits outside the hospital window, made worse by the fact that the room overlooks the similarly grey car park. This, coupled with the group of porters he can see down below wheeling a suspicious looking trolley covered by a white sheet, means that despite his usual optimism he can’t help but feel a little put down by the whole atmosphere of this place. 

None of them had thought they’d be back in a hospital so soon after the last emergency, and definitely not for something as serious as this. The doctor who’d explained it to Freddie, John and Roger had deliberately spared them the most graphic details of Brian’s surgery, but they’re not idiots. They didn’t need Roger’s degree level knowledge of biology to understand that a stomach ulcer would require an intense invasive operation to remove. Not to mention how long recovery would inevitably be. 

With a sigh Freddie moves away from the window to address the man behind him. Between Brian’s surgery and now he’s had plenty of time to muse about the absurdities of the universe, but he’s wanted to wait until Roger (still precariously existential) was safely out the way before divulging his musings to the one person he thinks might listen. 

The issue is that Rogers interest is matters like these is emotional, whereas Freddie’s is more academic, as he knows Brian’s is too. 

“Brian, do you ever have... a feeling of intuition, like you just know that deep down something is absolutely going to happen and it’ll work out how you want it to, and then when it does it’s like being handed the entire universe on a plate, and it’s like nothing, no man or God or demon can knock you down? You feel like fate is completely on your side”

“Um… Yeah? I suppose” Brian frowns from his position propped up in bed against two firm hospital pillows, visibly apprehensive as to where this tangent is going. 

“Before we went on tour that was how I felt. I was convinced we were going to conquer America, to the point where I could almost see it in my minds eye. I could see the whole trip in front of us, each venue and each party followed by our triumphant return to the newfound love of the English press” 

“Assuming that one tour in the US would make us popular with the tabloids was your first mistake Fred” Says Brian, a tired smile playing at the corner of his lips. 

“You know what I mean” Freddie returns the smile. It’s a small room by he’s feeling restless, so as he continues he begins to pace up and down past the foot of the bed “It just seemed like everything was going so well. It felt like fate. I’ve been thinking like this for a while now; it felt like we were meant to make music together, like the stars were trying to tell me that we have some greater purpose or destiny. And then to go through something like this, to have all your plans get blown to pieces… It’s like having the rug ripped out from under you”

He briefly stops pacing. It’s not a traumatic reallsation by any means, but to know that your ambitions sit just as precariously in the wider scheme of the universe as anyone else’s do is an odd thing to comprehend, even for an idealist like himself. Moreover it hasn’t escaped his notice that suddenly he’s thirty. Best case scenario? He’s somewhere between 40 to 50% through his life and it still hasn’t entirely happened for the band yet. With the way Brian’s health seems to be going he can’t help but wonder if it ever will. 

Pulling himself out of his spiralling thoughts and moving returning to lightheartedness he grins at his wan looking friend “Typical universe eh? Just when you think you’ve got a grip on how it works it moves the goalposts”

“The universe doesn’t move the goalposts Fred. The universe just exists. It isn’t malicious, it doesn’t act with intention. It just does stuff you know? It has its own rules and it follows them without thinking of us” Then as an afterthought Brian adds “It’d be beautiful if it wasn’t currently apathetically killing me” 

“Spoken like a true physicist. I think it’s almost reassuring to know that we could live or die- in fact the whole bloody lot of us could go extinct- and the world would keep turning as if we were never here” He pulls a chair up beside Brian’s bed, bored of pacing “But if I’m being honest I almost wish it did act maliciously. Then at the very least I’d have something to get angry at. I could fight it. Rebel against it and its stupid laws. That’s why I like the idea of God so much. If he exists then one day I’ll be able to give him a good kick in the teeth for doing this to you” 

It’s good to see Brian’s smile reach his eyes and not just come across as merely a courtesy “You’d kick God in the face for giving me an ulcer? Not for… I don’t know, child syphilis, or for famine, or the atom bomb? I mean I’m flattered but-”

“Don’t get me wrong darling” Interrupts Freddie “I’d kick him for all those things too. But I feel like I’d have to get in line. Plenty of people have an axe to grind with God for a wide variety of atrocities, but he fucked with my band. He made it personal” 

Brian laughs, then immediately his face pales and a hand goes instinctively to the bandages around his abdomen as he tries to ride out the unfortunate pain that comes with laughing too hard. Watching helplessly Freddie feels a twinge of guilt for forgetting not to over excite his still healing friend. It turns out that walking this tightrope between making Brian feel better while also trying to avoid getting him too emotional has been a lot harder than he’d originally thought it’d be. 

Brian recovers his breath “Alright then. If this is the end for me then I’ll be sure to warn him that you’re coming. This is of course ignoring the fact that there probably isn’t a heaven and if there is then I’ve done far too much sinning to ever hope to get into it” Behind the joke he’s still wincing, and unsurprisingly doesn’t protest when Freddie subsequently helps him to lie back down. 

It’s common knowledge now that even though sitting upright allows Brian to regain a sense of normality he’s in less pain when he’s horizontal. 

“Oh don’t be like that” Says Freddie, unable to resist the urge to readjust the pillows and blankets for his friend, despite the fact that he knows Brian won’t appreciate being fussed over “I know what these places are like, if you were really dying they’d have stuck a silly cartoon dove on the door and they wouldn’t be waking you up once an hour to check your blood pressure. There’s an end waiting for all of us, but this isn’t yours” Freddie negates mentioning that despite what he’d said to Roger during the longest night they’d spent in the hospital, he too had had his moments of wondering if Brian was going to make an untimely departure from their lives due to the gangrene, which is making this ulcer look like a stubbed toe by comparison. 

“Easy for you to say. You don’t know how shit I feel. I swear, it’s like this cocktail of drugs they’ve got me on is doing the square root of fuck all to make me feel better” Brian groans, letting his eyes slide shut for a moment “I’m never taking the ability to eat normally for granted ever again”

Freddie tuts sympathetically “It’ll come back to you in time. You can’t stay nauseous forever. We all need to be a little patient, that’s all”

“Yeah? Well I’m sick of being patient. Or of being _a _patient I suppose”__

__“Well according to Roger at the moment, time is just an illusion that hides how quickly our lives really go past, so you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Of course that also means you’ll be dead in no time, but then it’ll be like you were never ill in the first place, so either way it’s a victory”_ _

__Brian opens an eye suspiciously “What? I know they’ve got me on morphine so I’m not exactly with things right now, but nothing you just said made sense”_ _

__“I don’t know. He’s been having something of an existential crisis recently. I had no idea Roger had it in him to be so philosophical, but he was worse when you had gangrene. I think now that you’re getting better he’s starting to perk up a bit. I’m sure he’ll be back to the egotistical, womanizing, chain smoking, scrabble cheating drummer we all know and love in no time. Like I said, there’s a correlation between your health and his mental well being, so we’re on the right track”_ _

__“I don’t know about that” Replies Brian, again closing his eyes “I’m starting to think it might be a good idea to pull the hospital chaplain in here if he happens to walk past. I could probably do with the last rites”_ _

__Even though he knows he shouldn’t Freddie laughs “What happened to the indifference of the cold unfeeling universe?”_ _

__“I’ve changed my mind. I’m not taking any chances. It’s pascal's wager; either he doesn’t exist in which case I’ve got nothing to lose, or he does and-”_ _

__Freddie cuts him off, having picked up on the unmistakable sound of a pair of very distinct footsteps and voices “You would have something to lose. You’d lose valuable time you could’ve spent with these two idiots instead of listening to the drivel found in some old holy book”_ _

__Right on cue the door opens, revealing John and Roger laden with shopping bags and wearing identical scowls that suggest something has arisen between them in their absence._ _

__“Nice to see you again” Says Freddie with a bemused grin “We were beginning to worry. Tell me, how long does it take two fully grown adults to walk to the reception desk and back?”_ _

__John drops the shopping bags down on one of the free chairs and gives Roger the side eye “Blame him. I said it was a left at optometry but he insisted it was right. So we ended up taking an unplanned detour through maternity”_ _

__Freddie glances at Brian, both of them sharing a look that roughly translates to “Of course they’ve fallen out over something this ridiculous”_ _

__What Freddie says out loud however is “That must have been a frightening first sight for all the newborns. If the first thing I’d seen when I entered this world was your two faces I’d have been tempted to crawl right back up into my mother’s-”_ _

__“Oh. I’m sorry” Snarks John “I’m guessing that means you don’t want the dairy milk bar we just bought you. That’s fine, Roger and I will split it instead” Just to prove it he rummages in one of the bags and retrieved the titular bar with a smirk._ _

__Freddie jumps up from his chair “No I’m sorry! I take it back I take it back”_ _

__“Too late” Shrugs John, rapidly tossing it to Roger when Freddie attempts to lunge for it, the two of them forgetting their disagreement in the excitement of ganging up on their lead singer._ _

__The ensuing good natured scuffle is broken by Brian, who through wheezing breaths rasps “Oy! You’re not meant to be making me laugh! Stop being wankers and come and sit with me” “I mean it. I don’t want you getting kicked out for behaving inappropriately. I’m bored enough as it is without them banning you three from visiting”_ _

__Giving Roger one last playful shove for good measure Freddie retakes his place on the chair beside the bed with a laugh “Oh, and since when are you in charge?” He jokingly asks. Meanwhile John and Roger drag two chairs over to join him._ _

__“Since I vomited my own blood and had to be cut open so someone could rearrange my intestines” Replies Brian “All of that should make me eligible for band leader right? I’ve suffered, so I’ve earned it”_ _

__“So you’re saying if I got an ulcer then I’d be the supreme authority in the band?”_ _

__“No, because then you’d both be on equal footing. That’d make you the joint heads of the band” Says John._ _

__“I had alcohol poisoning once when we were still in Smile. What does that make me?” Asks Roger._ _

__“An idiot” Replies Freddie, sticking his tongue out at the blonde before adding “But all joking aside Brian’s right. He’s been through enough suffering to have earned a temporary position as the leader of Queen...” He pauses for dramatic effect “Until he gets better, then he’s worth just as little as the rest of us”_ _

__He breaks down into an infectious bought of giggles that spreads to the room at large almost immediately. It’s not even that funny, but a quarter of the rooms inhabitants are on morphine and the other three quarters are already in a somewhat hysterical mood._ _

__“What did I say about making me laugh Fred?” Gasps Brian, even though the pain he’s clearly in isn’t enough this time to wipe the smile from his face._ _

__“Sorry dear” Says Freddie sheepishly._ _

__Although this is more fun than any of them have had in days subsequently the three healthy members of Queen tone down their antics, for the sake of not hindering their guitarists recovery any more than they might have already. Consequently since they now don’t want to have too much fun in case they inadvertently hurt him again, and they can’t discuss the new album because Brian already feels like a liability and if he learns what they’ve been doing without him he’ll just feel worse, the conversation shifts to them talking about nothing in particular._ _

__It’s an uncharacteristically dull discussion for them, but the mundanity of it seems to be working, as in very little time Brian finds the strength to sit up again, which in turn gives Freddie an idea._ _

__He stands up, with the timing of it coincidently coinciding with an appropriate point in the conversation for him to offhandedly state “Fuck the universe”_ _

__John nods “Fair enough. Any particular reason?”_ _

__“The universe doesn’t have a plan. But that’s fine, it can work around mine”_ _

__Roger looks amused “Ok? And what kind of plan would this be?” He asks_ _

__“Well in the long term it’s make a lot of music with my favourite people, and hopefully earn a bit of money while I’m at it, but for now it’s enjoy your company” He makes his way to the door, with no intention of explaining his destination so as not to spoil the surprise “Ulcer or no ulcer we can still have fun. We don’t have to sit around gossiping like old women. I’ll be right back”_ _

__With that he leaves with the ambition of tracking down the slender nurse with the waist length black hair and high cheekbones who seems to have taken a shine to them._ _

__He returns about twenty minutes later (although he’s definitely not going to mention to Roger and John that it took him longer than expected because he got lost, as he knows he’d never hear the end of it) and walks in to hear Roger saying_ _

__“It’s like tennis, but on a screen. And you only need to-“_ _

__Freddie interrupts him “Look what the nice nurse got for me” He holds the box in his hand up with a triumphant rattle “Anyone for scrabble?”_ _

__Although it’s not ideal with the assistance of the bedside table they manage to get an inclusive game going, the four of them falling easily into a good natured but no less competitive match not unlike the ones they held across the us before Brian got so ill._ _

__Despite the fact that his brain is therefore primarily focused on trying to work out what words he can make with two x’s and a p Freddie is however still musing on the mysteries of life. More as a kind of background static than anything, but enough that over the course of the afternoon he’s able to put his thoughts on the matter of telos somewhat in order._ _

__Perhaps there is a plan for Queen. In light of recent events he can’t believe so, even though intuitively he wants to. Hell, maybe Roger, strange little essentialist he currently is, is right and there’s so little of a plan that none of their choices matter at all outside of their own heads._ _

__But even in the event of that extreme Freddie realises he’s fine with that. He’s inventive, so if there’s truly no purpose or greater plan he’ll damn well make one. In fact the lack of planning in the universe may just render his own ambitions more achievable because it means the band’s working with a blank canvas._ _

__Satisfied with his solution to the problem posed by existing he moves on to dedicate his entire attention to winning. He forgets unforeseen ulcers and existential forces beyond their control and settles fully into the comforting game, enjoying the company of those he loves almost more than anything else in the world, and hoping that they’ll be able to continue spending good time with each other for however long they may have left, regardless of whether the band is ultimately fated to work out or not._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank my own previous experiences with asking for a priest during a serious illness for inspiring Brian’s attitude here, and I’d also like to thank a close friend of mine for undergoung an appendectomy just so I could be blessed with the knowledge that making post op people laugh is a bad idea. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left kudos/kind comments on the last chapter. Please come make friends with me on tumblr @bisexualjohanna 💖💕

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. So I think that anyone who's read my previous fics (these being the lesbian aus and the random Roger sickfic) may have gathered that I've not been in a good place recently. And yeah, the truth is I've been writing these fics to distract myself from some pretty heavy realisations I've had recently about some complicated life shit like nihilism and mortality. 
> 
> Like, I am fine 😂 I'm just in a strange place that I really need some catharsis from. And the Queen boys during the hepatitis incident seemed like the right way to get it. I'm pretty sure irl Roger isn't this existential, but I like projecting onto him because I've been told we look alike. Whether or not that's true is up for debate, but you get the point (one day I'll post a selfie and I'll let tumblr judge the similarities between us) 💗
> 
> OH and follow me on tumblr @bisexualjohanna because I need more queen loving mutuals x


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